“Stella, you’re the calmest, clearest-thinking woman I’ve ever come across. I know you’re in some kind of trouble.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to pry. I don’t like anyone asking me questions, so I’m not going to insist you talk to me if you don’t want to share. Once you get past being shaken up, you do what you always do, think in steps and tackle the problem one step at a time. You’ll find the answer. You always do.”
There was absolute confidence in Sam’s voice and that steadied her. That gave her confidence. He was right. She wasn’t a child, and the killer was on her home turf. Her beloved Sierras. He had no idea she was already onto him and would be coming after him.
CHAPTER TWO
Thanks, Sam. I don’t do well on no sleep. You seem to be a light sleeper and you’re able to exist on just a couple of hours. I’m a heavy sleeper and need a good eight hours or I’m cranky.”
A ghost of a smile slid over his face just for the briefest of moments and it was as beautiful as the sunrise. She didn’t think his smile quite managed to reach his eyes, or it was so fleeting she failed to catch it there. She saw it so rarely. More often, the hard lines etched deep in his rough features were the norm.
“You’ve never been cranky, Stella, until lately. I’d say the nightmares rather than lack of sleep did that.”
“Maybe, but reminding me that I’ve got a good head on my shoulders helps. I appreciate it. I’m grateful I’ve got the day off.”
“You work too hard, but you seem to thrive on work.”
“I love this place. It feels like home to me,” she admitted. She’d never had that before. Everything about the Eastern Sierras appealed to her. “Sometimes I sit outside on the deck and just look around me and feel so lucky to be alive. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“I like that you can see the stars at night,” Sam said unexpectedly. “I sleep outside most nights and I like to lie on the cot and look up at the sky. You can’t see the stars from everywhere anymore. Here, they’re amazing, and feel close.”
Sam didn’t talk as a rule, and just that small revelation from him felt like a gift. She knew he often prowled around the resort at night, checking on everything. He was as bad as the two security guards, or maybe better since he made the rounds nightly and then some.
She knew Patrick Sorsey, one of the security guards, sometimes fell asleep on the job. He was forty-four, had three children and his wife was pregnant with their fourth child, a shocking oops neither expected. He held down two jobs, and she knew Sam covered for him. Patrick was a good man, just overworked.
“It’s a little surprising that a few dead bodies floating in the lake would get to you. It’s not like you haven’t had to deal with bodies, the police and medical examiner more than once, and as far as I know, that’s never thrown you before.”
That was true. Running the resort and being where she was, she had encountered all kinds of scenarios, from heart attacks to true accidents. Mostly drownings from too much alcohol around water. She had no problem handling any of them and knew what to do and who to call. Several of her friends and acquaintances, including Sam, were part of Search and Rescue. In fact, Vienna Mortenson, one of her friends, was head of the program for their county. They talked often, and after each rescue most of those taking part met up at the Grill to chat about what they had experienced. It helped to learn from each situation.
Stella wasn’t certain how to answer Sam because he was right again. He knew her so well. Few things threw her, including dead bodies— only knowing that a serial killer was beginning his work there in their beautiful piece of paradise. But she could get ahead of him. She just had to stay focused and not get thrown. She wasn’t that child. She wasn’t a teen. She had skills and training acquired over the intervening years.
She put the coffee mug on the pier and rubbed her temples. “I just need some sleep. I’ve got a couple of days off. That should help. I’ll try to talk to Bernice before I meet Harlow and Shabina. I really do appreciate you saying something to me about snapping at her. She doesn’t deserve it because I’m sleep deprived.”
“She deserves it because she rented boats to people she shouldn’t have, but you don’t ever snap at people,” he corrected. “I’ve got to fix the air conditioning in Cabin H.”
“You mean Honeycomb Cabin?” She deliberately used the official name given to the larger rustic cabin that had been renovated and was normally rented continually. A couple had left the night before, and they had one day before the next guests would arrive. That was very rare for that particular, very popular cabin.